as the fact itself, or his manner of delivering it, that
outraged me, I cannot now remember; but I do recollect giving expression
to a sentiment of surprise and anger not exactly suitable.

He merely smiled, and said nothing.

"Very well, M. Salvatori," said I, corrected by the quietude of his
manner; "what is your day?"

"Wednesday, if your Excellency pleases."

"Wednesday be it, and at eight o'clock."

"As your Excellency desires," said he, bowing and retiring.

It had never occurred to me to ask for any information about the happy
fair one; indeed, if I had given a thought at all to the matter, it
would have been that she was of the rank of a _femme-de-chambre_, or, at
least, some unhappy children's governess, glad to exchange one mode of
tyranny for another. As he was leaving the room, however, some sense of
remorse, perhaps, at the _brusquerie_ I had shewn towards him, suggested
the question, "Who might the lady be?"

"Mademoiselle Graham."

"Ah! a very good name, indeed," said I; and so, with a word or two of
common-place, I bade him good-by.

The Wednesday morning arrived, and two carriages drove into the court
of "the Mission:" out of one sprung Signor Salvatori and a very bearded
gentleman, who accompanied him as his friend; from the other alighted,
first, an elderly lady, whose dress was a mixture of wedding finery and
widow's mourning; then came a very elegant-looking girl, veiled from
head to foot, followed by her maid; and, lastly, the chaplain to "the
Mission."

They were some minutes too early, and I equally behind my time; but I
dressed hastily, and descended to the salon, where M. Salvatori received
me with a very gracious expression of his self-satisfaction. Passing
him by, I advanced to address a few words to the old lady, who had risen
from her seat; when, stepping back, I exclaimed,

"Mrs. Graham--my old friend, Mrs. Graham! Is this possible?"

"Oh, Caroline, it is Mr. Templeton!" said she; while her daughter,
drawing her veil still closer over her face, trembled dreadfully.
Meanwhile Mrs. Graham had seized my hand with cordial warmth, and
pressed it in all the earnestness of friendship. Her joy--and it was
very evident it was such--was little participated in by her son-in-law
elect, who stood, pale and conscience-stricken, in a distant part of the
room.

"I must entreat these gentlemen's permission to speak a few words here
alone, as these ladies are very old friends I have not seen